


The War Table

by TheSwordAndTheQuill



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, NSFW, PWP, Sexual Content, Skyhold, Smut, War table, late night encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSwordAndTheQuill/pseuds/TheSwordAndTheQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been dancing around each other for weeks, neither sure when to take the first step, but when the world is burning down around you it's foolish to wait forever. Something must be done, a late night paired with good wine bring things to a satisfactory climax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The War Table

Her back is pressed into the smooth surface of the massive table, her shoulder blades digging into the polished wood. Cullen’s hands are on her hips, his fingers pressing into the sensitive flesh hard enough to leave a mark. It’s exhilarating, this new raw passion that seems to be waking in him. She slides her hands up his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest. They are half dressed and fumbling, like teenagers, every inch of her skin is alive with fire.  

_Its late, she’s been pouring over paperwork in the corner of the room, too engrossed to even make it back to her office. Behind her the moon filters down through the massive windows. It must be well past midnight. She doesn’t look up as the door creaks open and then shuts again with a hollow thud._

_“I thought you’d still be here.” He says, the smile warm in his voice. She meets his gaze with a grin of her own._

_“Commander, you’re up late.”_

_“No rest for the wicked.” He sets down a covered tray and a stone flagon. “I saw the light and had a suspicion you hadn’t stopped for dinner.” She suddenly realizes that she’s starving. She looks up and smiles._

He lowers his head, trailing hot wet kisses along the sensitive curve of her stomach. His hands keep her hips from bucking as his mouth sinks lower still. His warm breath ghosts across her inner thigh and she presses the flats of her palms to the table top, her fingers flexing against the hard surface. When his mouth finds the heat pooling between her legs she cannot stop the little cry that escapes her throat. He is bold in his movements, his hands slide up the length of her body while his mouth goes to work, nipping and sucking and hurtling her toward the edge. 

_They probably shouldn’t have finished the entire flagon, but it was fine Antivan Red that Leliana had dug up from Maker knows where, and it seemed a shamed to waist it._

_She feels delightfully warm, and more relaxed than than she has in weeks. Her papers lie forgotten as she listens to the Commander tell her about the time he got a band of recruits lost while out on patrol. At least, she tries to listen, she keeps getting distracted by the thin white scar that splits his lip. He’s never spoken about how it happened and she’s never asked. One thing she’s learned in the past months is that Cullen only talks about himself when he wants to (which is so rare she can count the occasions on one hand), and no amount of prodding will get him to change his mind. He can deflect questions better than most diplomats she knows._

_"I sorry Ambassador," He says and she realizes she’s been gawking. "I’m not boring you am I?" She grins a little shamefaced at him and he smiles back, the scar on his lip stretching tight and bloodless._

_"Forgive me Commander." She says, and decides she’s tired of waiting. "I’m afraid I’m a bit preoccupied, there’s a question that has been weighing on me for some time."_

_"Oh?" His face grows serious, a little worry line creasing the space between his eyes. She smothers a smile._

_"Yes." She says, leaning forward in her chair, closing the distance between them, "I’ve been wondering if you ever plan to get on with it and kiss me?"_

_"Oh!". She expects the flush that spreads across his neck and up his ears. What she dose not expect is the utter lack of hesitation in his voice when he says, "Are you implying that this would be an appropriate moment?"_

_"I believe I am." She says, butterflies rising in her gut despite the boldness of her words._

_"Good." Is all he says before he leans in and claims her mouth. Her hands curl into the front of his tunic as his fingers slide into her hair, dislodging some of the pins there. His mouth is firm and pliant and she melts into his touch._

She is still on her back and breathless, the last tingeing waves of her orgasm sliding out through her fingers and toes. He craws up her body, dropping kisses as he goes, until he reaches her mouth. He kisses her once, firmly, then props himself on his elbows to grin down at her. 

"I must admit." He says, and she’s gratified to he that he’s a little breathless too. "This is not how I imagined the evening going." 

"Well." She smiles, reaching up to run a finger over the hard line of his cheekbone, tracing down along that tantalizing scar and over his bottom lip, "I hope it hasn’t been a disappointment so far."

"A disappointment?" He catches her hand, presses the fingers to his lips, and there is an expression in his eyes that makes her heart begin to pound. "No. No disappointment to be found."

"Glad to hear it." She says with a wicked grin, arching her back she presses the hollow of her hip against him, feeling his erection hard and hot beneath his trousers. 

“Josephine” he groans, and she realizes how much she likes the shape of her name on his lips. He drops his head to her shoulder and she can feel the tremor that runs through him. 

"This isn’t how I planned on doing this." He says against her neck. "I was hoping for something a little more…romantic. Maybe with flowers and firelight." She laughs, threading her fingers through his hair, its haphazard and curling and delicious. The idea that he’s been thinking about this moment fills her with warmth and longing. 

"What, you mean rutting like teenagers in arguably the most inappropriate place in Skyhold isn’t your idea of a good time." She asks, rolling her hips against him again. 

"I didn’t say that." He grows into her skin then pulls himself up to look at her. His eyes are dark with desire and her own need grows hot and thick in her belly. "If you’re sure." In answer she pulls his head down into a hungry kiss. He responds in kind, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before he starts to nip his way down the side of her throat. She arches up against him, suddenly finding him far to dressed. 

_The kiss becomes more and more frantic until suddenly she needs his skin on her own. Breaking away she reaches out and pulls him to his feet, her hands making a beeline for the hem of his tunic. She is unspeakably grateful that he decided to dispose with the armor, she has no time just now for straps and buckles. He leans in and kisses her again even as she starts to tug the shirt up his torso. Her hands find flesh underneath and she sighs against his mouth, his skin is warm and enticing. He smells like wine and elfroot and leather. She wants to drink him in until she bursts. He pulls back, helping her with his tunic tossing it aside and then reaching for the front of her gown. Her own hands fumble with the laces of his pants until he gives a huff, half amusement, half frustration._

_"Maker’s Breath Josie." He says, tugging uselessly at the silk wrapped around her waist, "How does this even work?"_

_She laughs and deftly sets to removing the offending garment, kicking off her shoes in the process. He makes it hard, he keeps leaning in for kisses and it takes her twice as long as normal, but soon she’s down to her under slip and smalls, at which point Cullen’s patients runs out and he scoops her up and deposits her in the middle of the clear end of the War Table. Climbing up after her he hooks his thumbs in to her small clothes and she lets her head fall back in anticipation._

She pushes lightly at him until he’s rocked back on his knees and she pulls herself up as well, her head spins a little and she giggles. He takes her face in his hands, kisses her, then turns his attention to getting out of his trousers. She pulls her under tunic off over her head and by the time he’s tossed his own garment aside she is naked and waiting, the cool air raising goosebumps on her arms and breasts. When he turns back to her the look of adoration on his face makes her blush like a school girl. 

To cover her embarrassment she closes the space between them, pulling herself up into his arms, sighing with pleasure as they come together, skin to skin. His hands run up her bare back as he kisses her, tracing the bones in her spine like a map. She pulls him closer, letting her fingertips slide over his arms, down to his chest, skimming over ribs. There are scars across his abdomen that speak of secrets he’s never shared with her, she wonders if he’ll let her ask about them someday. His mouth is on her neck now, making her breath come short and hard. 

Her exploring hands drop lower, dancing across the sharp bones of his hips and then coming to rest on the tops of his thighs. When she snakes one hand out to close loosely around him he jerks and bites her shoulder. She laughs, stroking him once, twice, and then he is guiding her Badk down with urgency. He hovers above her, his weight heavy between her aching thighs, the tip of his shaft bumping maddeningly against the slick head of her folds. She wriggles impatiently, reaching down to guide him closer, and he kisses her hard, at the same time sliding into her with one firm stroke. 

All of the air rushes out of her lungs at once, and for a moment all she can do is hold on to him for dear life. Then he begins to move and she rises up to meet him. The pace he sets is steady, wonderful, but measured. She can feel him holding back. She wraps her legs around him, locking her heels into the small of his back and pulls him deeper, harder.

"Cullen," She gasps against his ear. "Please." 

He gives in, increasing his speed until she can hardly breathe for the pleasure of it. She angles her hips, adding to the scalding pressure building between them and he groans against her mouth. She clings to him, her fingers digging into his flexing shoulders, as he mummers things into her skin that she cannot understand. Every muscle in her body is pulled tight longing for release, and when he moves his hand between them, his nimble fingers finding just the right spot to tease, she comes apart in his arms. The sound she makes is part keen, part choking laughter, and he shudders in delight. She spasms around him, tightening her legs, pulling him deeper than she thought possible, needing him closer, more fully hers. He plunges into her twice more before pulling out with a broken grunt. He presses his forehead into her shoulder so hard it hurts and sticky warmth splashes over belly and thigh. 

They lie there, panting, her hands running through his sweaty hair, his lips against her neck, then he pushes himself off her, stopping long enough to kiss her thoroughly, his breath still coming hard through his nose. Pulling back he scoots off the table, returning a moment later with a cool, damp cloth. She takes it and cleans herself up, then he does the same before stretching out beside her again. Rolling on to his back her pulls her into his arms. 

"We could go some where more comfortable." He says. She nods against his chest. 

"We could." 

"Also," He says with a chuckle, his fingers tracing patterns over her shoulders. "we should perhaps not be here when Cassandra comes down in the morning. She’d likely murder us both. " Josephine laughs, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. 

"Her face! Can you imagine!?" He grins at her and she can’t help herself. She leans down and claims his mouth again. He hums happily against her lips and she knows she will never get tired of this, kissing Cullen Rutherford.

"Come on." She says, sitting up and holding out a hand to him. "My room’s closer." He looks at her.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and she can see him start to remember all the reasons this is probably a bad idea. She heads him off.

"Did you really think this was a one time thing?" She says, taking his hand and pulling him down off the table. Once they are standing she takes his face in her hands and smiles. "When I play, its for keeps. If its agreeable, I think I’ll keep you for a long while." He grins and pulls her into his arms. 

"It is more than agreeable." He says, and kisses her.

"Besides," she adds a moment later as they dress and tidy up the room. "I seem to recall something about flowers and firelight."

"I think you might be right." He says coyly, then motions toward the door. "After you my lady." 

She takes his hand and pulls him with her, into the night.


End file.
